


A Friend Indeed

by modernKhione



Series: salva me, fons pietatus [1]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Anger, Anger Management, F/M, Gen, Injury, Non-Graphic Violence, Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24708148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/modernKhione/pseuds/modernKhione
Summary: There's a reason you avoided the others at first, especially Satan, and it both is and is not the reason one might assume.
Relationships: Main Character & Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character/Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Female Character(s), Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Series: salva me, fons pietatus [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777036
Comments: 4
Kudos: 85





	A Friend Indeed

**Author's Note:**

> Someone asked why my Reader/MC was so close to Satan (in an in-universe context) in my other story. This... is kind of why, I guess.

You were aloof at first.

Every spare moment you had, you spent in the library—either at the school or at the House of Lamentation. This world was dangerous, you had quickly realized, and upon meeting the other exchange student, _the_ Solomon, you knew you were out of your depth. You were struck with the need to figure out some leverage, find some knowledge, to keep yourself safe—and fast.

Day by day, hour by hour, you slipped away to the stacks, searching for what, you weren’t certain, but you knew it would set you at ease once you found it. And the demon brothers left you to it; they, aside from some attempts at flirting from Asmodeus, and a few perfunctory questions about your well-being from Lucifer, didn’t seem too keen on befriending you, either. So your days went.

But this routine was interrupted on the seventh day of your stay. A slight cough came from your side while you were busy transcribing something in the library at R.A.D.

“Hold on Mammon, I’m almost done,” you said, muttering curses under your breath at the twisty nature of this particular script.

“I’m not Mammon.”

You looked up.

Oh. It was Satan.

 _Oh._ Oh no.

You quickly averted your gaze. “Mammon usually picks me up around now,” you said in place of an apology. Though you weren’t sure you had done anything wrong…but that didn’t matter.

“Mammon is busy being punished this evening, and I was already here, so I’ve been tasked with escorting you home.”

Right. You breathed out, then flashed Satan the brightest smile you had. “Great! I’ll be done in a moment then, if you…” A nod. “Thanks!” you chirped, then went back to the transcription, faster now, smile still frozen on your cheeks. You probably looked mad. You almost hoped you did—that might keep you safe, right? People only feared the quiet ones once they snapped; films and books all told you so.

“I didn’t know you were interested in the evolution of demons.”

You replied without thinking. “You don’t know me at all.”

Shit.

You stopped writing, the last letter trailing off in a shaky scribble. A glance up at the Avatar of Wrath’s face revealed nothing; he was still smiling down at you, though there was no warmth in his regard.

“That is true. Are you done then? Shall we go?” You nodded, then quickly packed up your things. He didn’t help, but that was a relief to you; there were some books in your pile you _definitely_ didn’t want to be caught holding.

Then the two of you walked out of the library, silent. Your fingers itched, searching for something to do. You settled on putting them in your pockets, unsure if Satan would find it offensive if you pulled out your phone while walking alongside him. That was what you usually did these past days when Mammon came to get you—he was easy to ignore, to an extent. Even though he had been introduced as the second-most powerful demon of the brothers, you had quickly noticed he was mostly bluster and mostly harmless. Greed was easy to handle. Wrath, however… you glanced at Satan, only to find him looking back at you.

Your eyes darted away, roaming in search of a safer target. But Satan broke the silence. “Why are you scared of me?”

You stopped in your tracks. He did as well.

“I’m not scared of you,” you said quietly, looking at the ground. Even the grass here was strange—dark, withered, and twisted.

“Then why can’t you look me in the eyes? Why are you so uncomfortable around me?”

You froze.

After a moment, Satan sighed. “The others all say you’re just shy, but you seem to be intentionally avoiding me. Did I do something to offend you?”

“N-no.” This was worse than you had feared. Your response…no. An ugly beast was tearing its way up your throat, sinking claws deep into your lungs as it launched itself upwards.

You could feel him watch you a moment longer, then he said, “If you want to survive here, you’re going to have to show _strength_.”

Sudden irritation flared in you, the beast rearing its head. “I _know_ that!” Those words—they were too familiar to you, and the tone as well. “I’m gathering data _first_.”

“For what? So you can kill us?”

Your jaw snapped shut, your eyes widening. So he had seen your books anyway. Satan gave you a dark look, glittering with promise. “You really think we would leave that kind of information lying around? How _naïve_ are you?”

Your eyes burned. _“I am not naïve,”_ you hissed past the lump in your throat. The word echoed in your mind, taunting you with memory.

Satan raised an eyebrow, a coldly amused smile on his angelic face, but said nothing. He didn’t need to; you could hear all he had to say. His words spun around your head, laughing, jeering, poking holes in anything you had to say.

“I was not—I—I—” You blustered, trying to find an out. This wasn’t your plan! Like a cornered cat, your shoulders hunching up, trying to make yourself bigger, or was it smaller? But it didn’t matter if you couldn’t find an escape. There were no choices left for you here. The beast spread its arms wide, giving you a final push.

You let out a shriek of incoherent rage and launched yourself at Satan, all sense gone.

The demon threw you back; thousands of little cuts bloomed on your skin, courtesy of the thorns behind you. “Now you _fight_ me?” he snarled; his face morphed, his hands lengthened into claws, and horns erupted from his head, twisting over themselves.

But you were beyond caring. When you were like this, the darkness swallowed you whole. You were no longer the master of your own body.

You watched as you cursed at Satan, as you bit and scratched and punched him, as you went to claw at his eyes. And he fought you back, cuts and bruises following every point of contact. You lost sense of time; the rational part of you could only watch in a horror that seemed to stretch into eternity. Faintly, you understood that Satan was holding back, even as he beat you black and blue and stoked your rage with pain.

You curled up in the corner of your mind left to you. _Not again. Not again._

You cried inside. You knew it would change nothing. You had to wait it out.

You stopped watching.

But finally, _finally_ , your rage sputtered out, and you found yourself on your back, panting. Your bones ached. Your joints throbbed. It hurt to breathe, and you knew your skin would be painful to touch in the morning, and you would need to find a way to cover all your bruises up. Then Satan’s form filled your view, his horns gone, his face neutral, no longer mocking.

“Are you done?” He made no move to help you up.

You closed your eyes. “Yeah.” Your voice was garbled, your throat raw from screaming. You could feel hot tears building up behind your eyelids. _Not again._

“Was that why you were avoiding me?”

You tried to nod, but stopped, your head a bit dizzy. Did you try to headbutt him? No matter. “Yes,” you said.

Satan was silent awhile. Then you heard him shift and you felt his leg bump against yours. Your eyes flew open, and you sat up, wincing at the sudden shift; he may have held back, but you were still pretty hurt. Though honestly, you had attacked him after being caught researching how to kill his kind; it was enough that nothing was broken. “What are you doing?” you asked, voice thick, slow.

He gazed ahead; the two of you were on an empty path in the gardens that connected the House of Lamentation to R.A.D. There was nothing in this stretch but yellow bushes. Thankfully, it seemed nobody had heard your altercation.

“It’s been a long time since anyone tried to attack me like that. Even for a human I’ve tempted,” he remarked, still looking ahead.

You blew out a shaky breath. “Did you? Tempt me?”

“Not more than anyone else,” he replied. “I didn’t use my powers over wrath, if you were wondering.” He finally turned to you then. His eyes were dark, grave, but no longer hostile. “You really had no control, did you? Not even fear could touch you.”

You tried to smile. “It runs in my family. The anger.” You tried to shrug one shoulder but had to freeze from a jolt of pain. Wow, that was new.

Satan’s eyes studied your face. He seemed to find what he wanted however, because he nodded, got up, and patted down his pants. Then he reached out a hand to you. “We’ll be late for dinner.”

You took it and slowly hauled yourself up, wincing all the way. He watched you without comment—which was good. You didn’t want him to lie, to say he was sorry and didn’t mean it. He had been honest with you when he hurt you; he had been in control still too. He could have easily snapped your neck. That much you didn’t even need your research to tell you.

The two of you began to walk again in silence, albeit a bit slowly now. You limped a little; your bad ankle was throbbing again.

“You were still yourself, you know,” he suddenly said, as the house came into view. “There were worse impulses in your head, and you never reached for those.”

You stared at him. “How—?”

He smiled without malice. “I _am_ the Avatar of Wrath. I could sense it.”

That was it. You started to cry.

You distantly registered Satan’s surprise, but it was all you could do to try and get your crying under control. You began mopping up your tears—wait. Your eyes clearer now, you blinked down at the handkerchief in your hand, then looked up just in time to see Satan drop his hand to his side. He seemed, for the first time, uncomfortable.

“Thanks,” you croaked.

He looked away and cleared his throat. “Shall we go on, then?” At your hesitance, he added, “I’ll let Lucifer and the others know you’re not feeling well, if you want to take dinner in your room tonight.”

You wiped the last tears from your eyes and thanked him again. “I’d prefer that.” No doubt your eyes were red and puffy now, not to mention the questions that the bruises and scrapes from when you tried to fight Satan earlier would bring. Talking about the darkest parts of yourself was the last thing you wanted to do, right then.

Satan nodded, then held out his arm to you like an old-fashioned gentleman.

You couldn’t suppress the smile at seeing that gesture, so incongruous with his youth. You took his arm, and he slowly led you back to the house.

You kept the handkerchief.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a hard time trying to figure out how to tag this, so please feel free to give me suggestions if you think of any.
> 
> I also struggled a lot with writing the beginning section, which might be obvious. I apologise if it sounds a bit rushed or clunky. If anyone has suggestions for how I could write that part better, I'd love to hear them! <3


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